


Ephemerum

by DoctorPeggy



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Eurydice!Percy, F/M, Inspired by Hadestown, Legacy!Annabeth, Orpheus!Annabeth, Singer!Annabeth, percabeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-04-25 19:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorPeggy/pseuds/DoctorPeggy
Summary: Music is the only gift Annabeth can accept from the gods. All else, she knows, cannot come without cost. AU.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. Sight

The place where Annabeth is performing is small, but decent. She’s performed here twice before, and she knows it’s barely a start if she wants to make music her career, but the audience has received her well so far, so she has hope.

The evening is warm, and Annabeth bears it with patience, though she does take out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off her face and neck. She’s on her fourth song, the last for the night, and the audience has been lulled into a mellow merriness. Annabeth thumbs her electronic keyboard, building anticipation.

Her eyes catch on a figure at the end of the room, standing by the door of the establishment. He’s looking at her in anticipation, but he seems cut off from the rest of the crowd, and something about how he stands there, though Annabeth’s not sure what, gives her the sense that he knows he’s not someone this establishment would expect. He raises his eyebrows at Annabeth, his smile slightly crooked but also slightly endearing, and Annabeth finds herself blushing.

She holds his gaze for the briefest of moments before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Behind her closed lids she sees a startling blue-green ocean, and when she opens her eyes and starts playing the last song on the keyboard, she is left wondering why her mind had conjured up that image all of a sudden.

But as she slips into the rhythm of the song, the image is washed away, and the colours of her own music fill her up. Her first three songs were of other artists. She’d given them her own voice, but they weren’t hers. 

This last one is an original, and she feels the song in every part of her body as she builds up the music. She tastes the first few words on her tongue just before she opens her mouth and starts to sing. 

Annabeth forgets the crowd is there at all. She lets herself feel the song, she knows it too well by now to make a mistake. 

Though she _has_ made mistakes before by letting herself get lost, and her mother calls her reckless, but her father knows what she feels when she loses herself in her music, though he himself hasn’t inherited any musical ability. 

Music to her is like reaching for something that’s just beyond her reality, it’s a taste of something far away and different from the thoughts that are usually in her mind. It’s the one thing she knows how to do from her heart. 

And she revels in the feeling of it. 

She closes her eyes and plays the keyboard by touch. The song is about warm summer evenings in her childhood, nothing special or different, but singing it she feels like she can almost smell the hot seaside air, taste the sticky drops of a quickly melting orange popsicle dripping onto her hand.

Writing the song, she held those feelings, those impressions, tight and close. And now, when she sings it, she pictures those summer evenings, letting them take over her vision. She pours her childhood into the music.

As the song comes to an end, Annabeth sings the final notes slow and clear, and she feels the rest of the world coming back to her. The applause is startling, she’s never heard anything quite like it before, and it takes her a minute to realize that it’s the applause for _her_ song. She smiles at the audience, her heart feeling light and buoyant.

She thanks them for listening, and wishes them a nice evening, before carrying her keyboard off the stage. As she leaves, she sees startling sea-green eyes watching her intently from the back of the room. It’s the boy from before, and as she enters the wings holding his gaze, it feels as if a gentle sea breeze is tugging at the ends of her hair.

Then, just as she’s stepping into the small, dark corridor behind the stage, she remembers that image of the ocean, and it dawns on her that it’s the colour of _his_ eyes. The eyes of the strange boy standing in the back.

Her face heats up, and Annabeth shakes her head to clear it of emotion. She’d better get going if she wants to have time enough to tidy herself up before going to watch the next performer.

(And if she wants to catch _him_ before he leaves, though she tells herself that’s neither here nor there.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to express your thoughts in the comments!


	2. Dissonance

When she returns, hair now tucked into a Yankees baseball cap and clothes lighter and more casual, he’s gone. Adjusting the bag with her keyboard which is slung over her shoulder, she makes her way to the back of the open-air restaurant, thinking that perhaps she only can’t see him because she doesn’t have a good enough view from the crowd.

Nobody pays her any mind. Under her baseball cap her face is hidden, and people notice surprisingly little when they’re not looking for anything. The performance after hers is a band, and they’re taking some time to set up, but the crowd is watching them in anticipation nevertheless.

A short girl with a high voice, presumably the lead singer, attempts to hold the crowd’s attention while her bandmates fiddle with their instruments. Annabeth half-listens to her as she weaves through the jumble of bodies, reaching the end of the crowd as she hears the band start playing their first song.

But the person she’s looking for isn’t there. Annabeth sighs, turning around to watch the band perform. It’s not the kind of music she usually listens to, but it’s good, and she starts to get carried away by it.

By the third song she’s starting to quite like the band, and is making a mental note of their name; so focused that she all but screams when she feels a tap on her shoulder.

From behind her she hears a chuckle, and she turns around, heart beating wildly.

Her heartbeat increases tenfold when her eyes fall straight into the very sea-green ones she has been thinking about, which are looking at her with amusement.

She’s almost sure that every single drop of blood that is in her body is rushing up to her face.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he grins, “I just wanted to tell you I liked your song.”

Annabeth, for all her usual intellect, now opens and closes her mouth not unlike the pet goldfish she had when she was nine. The man chuckles again, teeth flashing, the dim lights catching his cheekbones and his lips and the tips of his eyelashes.

He’s slightly breathless; hair messier than Annabeth thinks it was when she’d seen him from on stage, one cheek streaked with dirt and an angry-looking cut on his jaw that Annabeth is sure wasn’t there earlier.

And still, in the lamplit twilight, he looks like a marble statue come to life; handsome and striking.

“I really startled you, didn’t I?” he says with a smirk, snapping Annabeth’s attention away from his jawline.

“I’m Annabeth,” she blurts.

“Yup,” he nods, taking the non-sequitur in stride, “I heard you introduce yourself on stage. I’m Percy, by the way.”

“Percy…” Annabeth tests out, “that’s not a name you hear so much these days.”

“Neither is Annabeth,” Percy counters thoughtfully, “although my name’s actually Perseus. Not that anyone ever calls me that, though.”

“Perseus? Like the Greek hero?” Annabeth asks, finally getting hold of her wits.

“Yeah,” he grins, although his hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Annabeth notices a huge scrape on the side of his hand, starting from his wrist and ending at his elbow. Mud and glass sticks to the bare skin, but there is little of it, as if most of it has been brushed off carelessly. Percy notices her gaze on the wound and jerks his hand away from his neck, bringing it back to his side. There’s a tense silence as he seems to wait to see if Annabeth will say anything. But she won’t, she’s not stupid. It’s clear to see that he doesn’t want her to ask about it.

Instead, she latches onto the conversation thread of Greek mythology. At the very least, it’s something she knows a lot about.

“Perseus is one of the cooler heroes, really,” she tries with a forced lightness, “He didn’t die tragically, and that’s a start anyway.”

But Percy doesn’t seem to take this well. He tenses, hand reaching into his pocket. His eyes narrow.

“You’re into Greek mythology,” he says flatly, though Annabeth can tell he’s trying to pitch it like a question. It’s clear that he’s not very good at faking polite conversation.

It’s also clear that something in the conversation has gone wrong, and Annabeth has no idea what.

“Yeah,” she responds slowly, “my parents used to tell me stories as a child, and once I learned how to read, I pretty much read everything there was to read about it.”

Her own voice sounds strange and stilted to her, the tension in the atmosphere seeping into her.

But thankfully, Percy relaxes almost as soon as she finishes her sentence, the easy smile sliding back onto his face. Annabeth lets out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I’m working on a song about the myths actually,” she feels compelled to add, relief making her words come out easier.

“Oh?” he quirks an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not finished, but I think… I think it’s going to be different from anything I’ve every sung before.”

“Well, yeah, I guess any song works like that, right?”

“No, I mean—it’s going to _feel_ different.”

“Ohhhh… so like when you hear a different song. Right. I totally get it.”

“No! I mean… sort of, but it’s… I get the sense that the song will—never mind, you’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Okay then?”

“Yeah. Anyway, what—”

But Annabeth’s question is cut short by a low, chilling howl. She whips her head towards the door, because she’s almost sure the howl is not any normal creature. The people around her seem unaffected, which only cements Annabeth’s fears.

“I’m going to step out for a bit, it’s kind of stuffy in here,” she hears Percy say from next to her, and she whips her head back in his direction.

“No!” she screeches in reflex, causing some people to turn and frown at her.

She clears her throat.

“I mean,” she amends, “I’ll come with you.”

Percy’s jaw is set, and Annabeth has the strangest feeling that his timing is not a coincidence. She’s not the only one who has heard the howl.

“It’s okay,” he tries to say casually, “I’ll just step out for a bit,” but his expression doesn’t match his words.

“That’s alright, I’d be happy to come with you. Unless you mind, of course,” Annabeth responds with more composure than Percy.

And Percy is stuck. It would be rude to tell her he does mind, and it would be strange to tell her she doesn’t have to—Annabeth knows this. She’s her mother’s daughter, after all.

From outside, there is a low growling, and Percy shudders. He looks at Annabeth carefully, and it feels like he’s seeing through her.

He narrows his eyes.

“Okay,” he says slowly, “let’s go.”

And without waiting for her, he sprints for the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, towards the end I tried to get it across that Percy and Annabeth are both starting to guess that the other is a demigod/legacy, Annabeth logically and Percy intuitively. Did that come across?
> 
> And again, feel free to express your thoughts in the comments!


	3. Introductions

Annabeth smells them before she sees them. It’s a smell she remembers from when she was much younger, the smell of a dog when it hasn’t been given a bath in nearly long enough—except a hundred times stronger.

Then the door is closing behind her and she’s face to face with two enormous black mastiffs. _Hellhounds_ her brain supplies.

Percy is in front of her, off to the left, looking ready to fight. He’s holding a glowing double-edge sword in his hand, unmistakably celestial bronze, but Annabeth is almost sure there is nowhere he could have been hiding something that big.

The hellhounds are eyeing them warily, but they haven’t attacked yet, which is a miracle in and of itself.

Annabeth doesn’t have much in the way of weapons, only a knife she keeps strapped to herself underneath her shirt. She’s only ever used it in training, but she wouldn’t be a legacy of Athena if she didn’t carry a backup weapon at all times.

Not that a single knife will do her much good against two huge hellhounds.

She flicks her gaze back over to Percy. He’s in a fighting stance, but it seems he has also noticed that the hellhounds are hesitating. They’re starting to growl, but they haven’t moved at all.

“They don’t look like they want to fight,” Annabeth supplies from behind Percy.

“No,” he agrees, “but they will. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Annabeth reaches under the waist of her jeans and pulls her knife out of its sheath. She drops the bag with her keyboard behind her.

“I hope I know what I’m doing, too.”

And that’s when the hellhounds lunge at them.

Annabeth barely has time to think before Percy slams into her, knocking them both to the ground. She sees his sword flash in the air above them, but she can tell that he has missed.

She scrambles to her feet just in time to jump away from an attacking hellhound, the speed taking her by surprise. By how big they are, Annabeth is sure they shouldn’t be able to move that fast. She grips her knife tighter and waits for the hellhound to attack her a third time. From the corner of her eye she sees Percy slice through the other monster, breathing heavily. The one attacking her finally lunges, and this time instead of dodging, Annabeth slides under it, propped up on an elbow, and slashes her knife through the hellhound’s neck. She blows out a measured breath as the monster dissolves into shadow, scanning her surroundings just in case there are any other surprises waiting for them.

Seeing that there is nothing, she turns around to get up, and finds Percy standing over her, holding out a hand. She takes it gratefully, and he hauls her up.

“I guess you _do_ know what you’re doing,” he grins. “Are you a half-blood? I haven’t seen you at camp.”

Annabeth dusts herself off, inspecting the scrape on her elbow that she’s acquired from sliding on the ground.

“Depends which camp,” Annabeth exhales, looking back up at Percy now that she’s satisfied that her scrape isn’t too bad.

“You’re roman?”

“Greek. I’m a legacy.”

“Right… I forgot those existed. I mean, because Camp Half-Blood doesn’t really… I mean, not that I didn’t know, some of my friends are legacies, but…”

Percy fidgets with the end of his shirt.

“Relax,” Annabeth chuckles, “I don’t mind. I _have_ been to Camp Half-Blood, too, though. I usually visit at least once a year, but it’s usually in the winter, when nobody’s really around, because summers are when people from Camp Half-blood usually come to Camp Jupiter… although I’ve never seen you there.”

“I uh, don’t do well on flights. Zeus kinda has a thing against me. And it’s not safe to take me anyway, I attract way too many monsters.”

“Really? That’s ridiculous, how could you possibly attract any more monsters when you’re already with thirty other demigods? I’ve only ever heard of children of the big three being that dangerous.”

“Well, you see… that’s kind of the problem. I’m a son of Poseidon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is relatively short compared to the others, for which I am sorry, especially since I had to cut it short because I added a very important but incomplete line towards what would have been the end of the chapter... and then forgot how I was going to end extremely important and plot-relevant line.  
I cannot guarantee that this will not happen again.
> 
> Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter in the comments!
> 
> In case you liked this work and would want to see original writing, WIPs and other silly things from me, I have a tumblr: https://doctor-peggy.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

“Well, you see… that’s kind of the problem. I’m a son of Poseidon.”

“That—”

“I swear I’m not lying to you!”

“—explains a lot.”

“Oh.”

Annabeth takes a moment to enjoy the look on Percy’s face, before continuing.

“Although I didn’t think there were that many children of the Big Three running around nowadays. I mean, no offence.”

“Nah, I get that a lot. It’s worse because I was named after… well, after the other Percy Jackson. My last name isn’t Jackson, but my dad—I mean, Poseidon—insisted it be my middle name. It seems he really loved Percy. It’s been a long time since the two wars, but people don’t forget a hero like that. I guess it’s rather a funny coincidence that you’re named Annabeth, isn’t it?”

“Annabeth Chase Sommers. I guess my parents had the same idea about my middle name.”

“No way. Are you messing with me?”

“I wish? My dad says… well he says Annabeth—the first Annabeth—died saving him. So I guess I’m honouring her memory. My mother was in agreement, seeing as she’s a daughter of Athena herself.”

“Oh. Right. That’s…”

Annabeth laughs.

“You don’t have to try to say something if you don’t have anything to say,” she said lightly.

“Well… my mother is just a mortal woman. I mean, she’s amazing, but she doesn’t know anything about… well, anything. She knows that the first Percy was a hero… but not much beyond that. I think I might be one of the few demigod kids named by my godly parent.”

“That…”

“Sucks?”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far…”

There’s a terse moment of silence, before Percy bursts out laughing.

“What?” Annabeth demands, though now she’s laughing too.

“No, it’s just… this is one hell of a coincidence.”

“It definitely is! I was thinking that since you said your name was Perseus.”

“Right from the beginning, huh? Your brain works _way_ faster than mine.”

“I mean, the goddess of wisdom herself being my grandmother has got to count for something.”

Percy stares.

“You mean you’re not a legacy of Apollo?”

“I do have _two_ parents, you know. My dad’s a son of Apollo.”

“Oh. _Oh,_ wait, _of course!_”

Annabeth snorts at Percy’s wide-eyed expression.

She’s about to say something snarky when Percy keeps going.

“So when you said that song you were writing was going to be _different_, I guess you meant you had first-hand experience.”

Annabeth frowns, not sure if she’ll be able to explain well enough even if she corrects him.

“It’s… kind of like that,” she says slowly, trying to figure out whether or not she should keep going, “but I kind of meant it more like… well, I’m a legacy, but I have gifts from my grandfather, more even than my father himself has. It’s weird, I guess, but sometimes I make music because I love it, and other times… I don’t know. It’s a calling. Something’s asking me to write this song.”

Percy blinks, uncomprehending.

“Something’s… asking you?”

“Not literally.”

“Oh. Um, okay, _what_?”

Annabeth sighs.

“It’s hard to explain, and so far nobody I’ve tried to tell has really understood. Not many people even inherit talents from the gods nowadays.”

Percy’s expression turns sombre.

“No, they don’t. Something’s wrong.”

Annabeth’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t think anyone else had noticed!” she gasps. Percy stares.

“Wait… do you know what I’m talking about?” he gapes, “I pretty much just said ‘something’s wrong’ and you’re not even asking me about it?”

Annabeth purses her lips.

“It felt like we were talking about the same thing. What were you talking about?”

Percy’s face darkens again.

“It’s… a lot of little things. Nobody else really mentions it, or even believes me when _I_ mention it. None of us have any powers, and for once legacies have started to outnumber half-bloods. Monsters seem to be running loose, and… Olympus doesn’t communicate with us anymore. It’s like the gods are slowly fading out of the picture.”

Annabeth bites her lip, a hundred different thoughts racing through her head.

“Does your father communicate with you still?” she asks, still chewing her lip pensively, “I think he’s one of the few Olympians who might refuse to play by any new rules Zeus has set, although it doesn’t seem like the Olympians themselves are aware of what’s happening. Something’s up. People are slowly losing faith in the gods.”

Percy seems to take a moment to gape at her, before snapping back to his senses.

“He doesn’t. He did very early on, it was weird because most gods don’t involve themselves in the childhoods of their demigod children… but one day he told me he couldn’t talk to me anymore and I haven’t heard from him since.”

Annabeth worries her lip a little more. She feels like she’s finally getting more pieces of the puzzle.

“Was there anything specific he said to you before that?”

“Well, he only said something he’d always say, but—”

“What was it that he always said?” Annabeth cuts in impatiently. If there was any Olympian who would leave a clue, it was Poseidon, so if there was something he always told Percy, then Annabeth is sure there is something more to it…

“Annabeth!” Percy’s voice rings in the space around her, like the chord of a song. Her eyes lock onto his face, and her thoughts evaporate in the brightness of his eyes. “Ah, sorry, you just seemed kinda lost in thought, so I figured you didn’t hear what I was saying…” Percy goes on, but the words disappear like sea foam when they reach her. All she can see is his face, and it feels as though she has seen it thousands of times before, but also as though if she looks away, he will disappear forever. Light from the moon and the streetlamps and his own eyes bounces off his eyelashes and the edges of his cheekbones. His eyebrows, his nose, his lips, in the darkness seem like they’re carved from marble. _Annabeth_, his voice echoes in her head. _Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth_. Like a familiar, haunting melody.

She steps closer to him, and his eyes widen by a fraction, but he does not move. His lips close softly, his voice trailing off. Why does this image of him, calling her name, alone and stark against the New York skyline, make her feel so wistful?

“What was it that he always said to you?” She breathes, full of awe and wonder and something else she can’t quite name. Percy swallows.

“He told me not to forget who I am.”

“Forget who you are?” Annabeth repeats, moving still closer.

“Yeah,” Percy whispers back. His hand reaches up to brush lightly against her hair.

And then, feeling like she has done it many, many times before, she presses her lips softly to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rewritten parts of this chapter a few times because it felt clunky, but I'm not sure I managed to fix the awkwardness.   
Tell me what you think in the comments!
> 
> Also yes, this is a story in which they've been reincarnated. I don't know whether or not that works, but that's the idea I had, and that's what I'm going with even if now I'm not too sure about it. For reference, this is set many, many years after the events of Heroes of Olympus (for reference, I have not read The Trials of Apollo, but I did check to make sure that it doesn't really impact the timeline, in the context of this fanfiction, and it doesn't, but also in this alternate universe both Percy and Annabeth died during the Heroes of Olympus series).
> 
> And in case you liked this work and would want to see original writing, WIPs and other silly things from me, I have a tumblr: https://doctor-peggy.tumblr.com/


End file.
